


Doing It Wrong

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Light Dom/sub, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Content, Shotgunning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 03:13:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1712861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam writhed beneath him, trying in vain to thrust up into Zayn’s elusive fingers. He felt warm all over, his body pumping blood and pounding with the low music Zayn put on what felt like hours before and the desperate, aching desire to feel something, anything on his leaking cock.</p>
<p>“Please—” Liam breathed the word like a prayer, breaths huffing out in little exasperated whines.</p>
<p>“I guess I did want you to fucking beg.” Zayn slowly pressed his palm to Liam’s hip, sliding closer to where he was panting to be touched.</p>
<p>(or the one where liam's pouty and jealous because zouis hang out and get high together and he just wants to blow smoke in zayn's mouth)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doing It Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> so this fic was once again written by gina, because this has essentially just turned into a joint ao3 account. (pun intended.)

“Well you’ve certainly made a fuss for yourself,” Liam said when the video ended, locking his phone screen and tossing it aside. He saw the chaos online before he saw it for himself; as if it weren’t bad enough to be happening in the first place, he of course had to be the last to know. Zayn just looked at him sheepishly, doe lashes batting around wide eyes in a pretty weak attempt at eliciting some form of pity.

 

“Liiii,” Louis whined, cocking his head and pulling an almost infinitesimal pout. “You know it’s nothing personal. S’not like we purposefully went out that day with intent to smoke without you. Or make a video that would leak.”

 

“That’s what you get for sending it to people,” Zayn nudged him with his shoulder pointedly, but not managing to add any significant amount of accusation to his tone with Liam still looking like someone pushed him down on the playground. Liam just kept pacing absentmindedly in front of the two boys on the couch, hands in his jeans pockets. His gaze never quite met Zayn’s.

           

“I didn’t think they’d sell the fucking thing to paps,” Louis grumbled for the eight hundredth time, but Zayn and Liam weren’t really listening anyway. “Thank god you’re still engaged; I’ll bet you my left nut that you’re going to have to start talking a fuck of a lot more about your super-exciting conveniently brand-spankin’-new wedding plans if we’re ever going to see this blow over.”

           

“Let’s not talk politics,” Liam interrupted sharply. Zayn’s eyes stayed on his feet. “There’s going to be plenty of that soon enough, anyway.”

           

Louis shrugged, planting his hands on his knees and pushing himself upright. “Whatever,” he said, more for something to say than for the sake of anything else. “I’m going to call my mum; I have a feeling she’s not my biggest fan right about now.”

           

“Good luck, mate.” Zayn smiled halfheartedly as Lou closed the door behind him. Liam suddenly became very occupied with rooting around in one of his bags, shoulders slumped a bit more than normal.

           

“Hope it was fun, at least,” he said indifferently after a long while.

           

Zayn gazed at Liam’s back, trying his best to ignore the view for the sake of maintaining conversation. “It was alright.” He shrugged, even though Liam couldn’t see. “Sobered up right before we went on, anyway.”

           

Liam made a noncommittal noise of acknowledgement, bending around the hotel bed to find an outlet and nodding slightly.

           

“I mean, it was just one joint.” Zayn continued, unsure what exactly had Liam so fucking quiet. He didn’t have to be uptight about it. “If that’s what you’re on about.”

           

“I’m not on about anything.”

           

Zayn’s temper flared slightly, but he didn’t reply; he knew Liam would say something eventually—

           

“You’re a big boy; you can make your own choices.”

           

“Damn right, I can.” Zayn cringed, feeling like a disruptive child arguing with a stoic parent, embarrassment only making his frustration worsen. Liam kept idly puttering around with nonsense, never turning around. “S’not like you’ve never smoked before.” Zayn got to his feet, angrily shrugging back into his jacket, having had just about enough of the silent lecture.

           

“I never have with you.” Liam said it quietly, so quietly Zayn paused for two complete seconds before sitting back down on the other bed.

           

“Yes, you have!” Zayn’s brow furrowed as he desperately wracked through his memories, absolutely sure there had to be at least one time. “You’re mad.”

           

“No,” Liam countered calmly, too fucking calmly for Zayn’s taste. “We’ve been around each other before while we were high, but never at the same time.” Zayn dragged his fingers through his hair, leaning back against the pillows at the headboard.

           

“I mean,” Liam said rather suddenly, as if he only just mustered up the right words to say, “it’s not a big deal or whatever. We do loads of other things, anyway. I mean, I get it if you’d rather do it with Lou. He’s probably more fun like that, louder. Better to be around.” Liam rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, and Zayn watched his hand drop lamely to his side.

           

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, so taken aback it took a few tries to even get anything out, “Li, what the bloody hell are you going on about?” Zayn blinked at him. “You know I love you, this has nothing to do with you.”

           

Liam grumbled, tugging the zipper on his bag closed roughly and heaving it aside, throwing himself onto the bed. “I’m going to bed. Night.”

           

“Like hell you are,” Zayn flew up instantly, sliding onto the bed next to him and trying to wedge an arm beneath his stomach. “Christ, Li, if you wanted to smoke with me you could just right well ask!”

           

“I don’t want to have to fuckin’ beg.” His words were made almost incoherent by the duvet. He scooted farther from Zayn, raising his hips to unbutton his own jeans and lazily pushing them down his legs and taking his tight black boxers down a few inches.

           

“You don’t have to _fucking beg_.” Zayn licked his lips as Liam tugged them back up and shifted his weight to his hipbones to bow his shoulders out of his shirt.

           

“Whatever.” Duvet-muffled Liam’s back muscles slid into place as he found a comfortable position, and Zayn couldn’t help but reach out and touch. Liam tensed immediately but relaxed when Zayn’s long fingers curved around his torso, pulling them tightly together.

           

“Love you.” Zayn kissed Liam’s shoulder, feeling his warm skin beneath his lips and pushing his hips forward ever-so-slightly. “Even if you’re a twat sometimes.”              

           

Liam rolled over, eyes narrowing but lips curving up on their own accord. “Good.” He pressed his forehead to Zayn’s, leaning in to press a quick peck to his nose before pushing away and rolling over to reach behind the bed to the floor, and Zayn finally saw what he had been fussing with. He held a grinder in one hand and a small bowl in the other, grinning sheepishly and waiting for an answer to his unspoken question.

           

“Liam!” Zayn sat up to pull his jacked off and crossed his legs. “You sure?” Liam nodded and that was all it took.

 

***        

           

Ten minutes later, Liam couldn’t stop swiveling from side to side. Zayn was singing Usher and drawing spiral mandalas on Liam’s exposed knee; he didn’t let him put his clothes back on, and was too distracted by the feeling of even such an insignificant amount of Liam’s skin on his own to remember to take off his own.

           

“Happy now?” Zayn asked, laying his whole hand on Liam’s warm thigh and squeezing gently. A low noise rumbled out of Liam’s chest as he tipped his head back, exposing his throat almost immediately. Zayn swallowed hard, unable to stop himself from tipping forward and sucking hard on the bottom of his neck before letting off and punctuating it with a nip to his collarbone.

           

“Very,” Liam murmured, his accent having grown thicker from the weed. Zayn liked this Liam, he decided; quiet and at peace and very much himself. Liam hummed happily to himself, raising his arms over his head and tilting his chin from side to side in a stretch that made Zayn’s mouth go dry. Liam relaxed, a smile sliding across his features and he smirked the smallest bit.

           

Zayn grinned, taking the final hit from the bowl and gesturing for Liam to come in closer with a crooked finger; Liam pitched forward at the hips and came to his hands and knees on the bed. He met Zayn’s kiss and let him work his lips open, eyes opening in surprise when he felt the bitter, sharp tang of smoke meet his tongue.

           

“Inhale, love.” Zayn chuckled, watching as Liam nodded determinedly and meet his lips again and inhaled the shared smoke, leaning back to sit and holding it for a few seconds before blowing it up at the ceiling.

           

“Thank you.” Liam looked right pleased, beaming like the sun and eyes crinkling. “God, this is nice. Really nice.”

           

Zayn nodded, taking the bowl and lighter from the bed and leaving them on the nightstand next to the grinder. He sprawled out on the bed, gently prodding Liam’s waist so he would follow. Liam curled into a ball at Zayn’s side, pressing his cheek to Zayn’s chest and damn near purring when Zayn carded his short nails through his hair. Liam smiled, pushing closer and throwing an arm across Zayn’s chest. “Keep doing that, yeah?”

           

“Demanding, are we?” Zayn murmured, but he kept it up if only to see Liam melt into a puddle next to him. “A bit of a role reversal.” Liam giggled, fucking giggled, and Zayn couldn’t help but grin. They lay like that for a while, feeling each other’s heartbeats and synching their breaths.

           

“Zayn,” Liam said slowly, blinking up at him. “I want to ask you something.”

           

Zayn quirked an eyebrow glancing down at the little ball of mush that began to giggle like a mischievous kid. “Oh?”

           

He bit his plump lower lip and batted his eyelashes while Zayn watched in awe, wondering what exactly Liam was getting at that required that level of convincing. “So I hear some things are loads better when you’re a bit high,” he said it almost conversationally, pushing himself up to an elbow and allowing Zayn an excuse to appreciate his toned arms.

           

A few gears clicked into place in Zayn’s head and he almost burst out laughing; leave it to Liam to try and be delicate about it. “Like crisps?” he asked, desiring nothing more in that moment than seeing Liam’s coy little plan backfire.

           

“No—well, those too,” he admitted quickly, “but that’s not quite what I meant...” Zayn could see him flushing at the cheeks.

           

“Vinyl records are supposed to be mind-blowing,” Zayn said, sweetly tracing hearts on Liam’s back, knowing the gesture would make him even more reluctant to continue.

           

“Well, yeah, but I mean, like, you know, _things_ ,” he said, eyes searching Zayn’s face desperately for some type of recognition.

           

“I haven’t the faintest what you’re getting at, love,” Zayn smirked, and Liam finally caught on to what he was doing. He pouted instantly, shifting his weight from elbow to elbow.

           

“Please,” he murmured, hiding his face with his breath ghosting over Zayn’s chest.

           

“What was that?”

           

“Zayn,” he groaned, cheeks nearly glowing red.

           

Zayn was enjoying this much too much. “I didn’t quite catch what you said before.”

           

“Baby, you know what I’m saying!” Liam huffed quietly, popping his knee over Zayn’s legs and pressing his hardening cock to Zayn’s hip, hoping his body could speak for him.

           

“Was that ‘please’?” Zayn persisted, watching Liam’s desperation drive his hips into tight little circles before pulling away completely to sit against the headboard, watching Liam’s reserve waver.

           

“Please,” Liam said again, crawling up the bed to straddle Zayn’s hips. “Please, baby, you’re driving me mad.”

           

“You’re the half naked one; if I didn’t know better I’d think you were trying to seduce me.”

           

“So what if I am?” Liam retorted, confidence building when he felt Zayn’s cock against his own. He gave a few experimental grinds, trying to elicit some kind of reaction.

           

“I don’t think you’ve earned it, love. Going off all passive-aggressive in your boxers and trying to guilt me into getting high, just so I’ll fuck you.” Zayn had no idea where this was coming from, but by the half-stricken-half-lustful look on Liam’s face, he guessed it wasn’t his worst idea.

           

“Zee,” Liam whined lowly, swiveling his hips down in circles, chasing the delicious friction the rough denim offered.

           

“I don’t think so, love.” Zayn took Liam by the hips and pushed him onto his back, pressing the heels of his hands into Liam’s shoulders and straddling his chest. In one swift movement, he took up both of Liam’s wrists and pinned them above his head, leaning down to let their lips barely brush. Zayn’s cock pulsed where it was trapped against his zipper, but he ignored it in favor of reaching back and tracing his fingers lightly over Liam’s bulge. “Christ, you’ve gotten yourself all worked up already.”

           

Liam writhed beneath him, trying in vain to thrust up into Zayn’s elusive fingers. He felt warm all over, his body pumping blood and pounding with the low music Zayn put on what felt like hours before and the desperate, aching desire to feel something, anything on his leaking cock.

           

“Please—” Liam breathed the word like a prayer, breaths huffing out in little exasperated whines.

           

“I guess I did want you to fucking beg.” Zayn slowly pressed his palm to Liam’s hip, sliding closer to where he was panting to be touched. He added more pressure the closer he got until Liam’s lips parted in anticipation, brows knitting in the middle of his sweating forehead. In one smooth, catlike motion, he smirked before rolling off of him and getting to his feet next to the bed. He stood there expectantly while Liam looking up at him with wide eyes, and hanging on his words.

 

“Earn it.”

 

He gracelessly scrambled off the bed. His boxers were gaping at the front, shifted so the seams weren’t even on his hips anymore, and his hair was already a mess, but he was too gone and too blissfully stoned to care. As he got to his knees, Zayn wondered briefly if Liam would bruise from where his fingertips bit into his wrists; he remembered the fat love bite already blossoming beautifully on his neck and decided it didn’t even matter. Liam nearly tore the button from Zayn’s jeans in his hurry to strip them from his legs, peeling the waistband of his boxers down and kissing every new inch of the flawless olive skin he exposed. Zayn couldn’t help but watch, mouth agape, as Liam worked his length in his hand slowly and pressed a kiss to his tip, swiping at his slit slowly enough to make his toes curl. He groaned softly; he could almost feel the smile on Liam’s lips when he wrapped them around his head, laughing a bit as he hollowed his cheeks and sucked hard.

 

“Cocky?” He scolded in a low, almost dangerous voice, roughly palming the back of Liam’s head and forcing his lips to reach his base. His eyes began to water but he never let out a sound, so Zayn eased up on him and moved his hand from his hair to his shoulder, where he pressed his thumb into the bruise on the column of his throat. He felt Liam’s breath hitch before swallowed around the head and pulled back slowly, his tongue pressing flat in the most goddamned glorious way. Zayn swayed as every single sensation resonated throughout his entire body from the high; he had to pull away for fear of losing all control.

 

Liam so desperately loved the fucking noises that came out of Zayn’s mouth, the way his abs clenched when he did something just right, how his hips stuttered as a silent reward for pressing all the right buttons. He didn’t even think about it; on his knees, tear tracks making shiny little rivers on his face, hair mussed, cock about to pop his boxer seams, he let out a whimper.

 

Zayn’s mouth dropped open and he froze with his cock curving towards his stomach, still rock hard and slick with saliva. “What was that?” he asked, a devilish glint in his eyes.

 

Liam turned a most adorable shade of scarlet. “Nothing,” he said quickly, getting to his feet and reaching out to wrap his fingers around Zayn’s length in hopes of distracting him. Zayn batted his fingers away, instead taking his wrists again, this time with one in both his hands to keep his arms useless at his sides. Liam couldn’t even make eye contact.

 

“I never thought I’d see the day.” Zayn laughed, pressing a condescending kiss to Liam’s forehead. “No wonder you begged.”

 

“At least I can handle having my cock sucked for more than five seconds before I lose it.”

 

Liam said it so softly he didn’t even think Zayn would hear. Liam was sure he did, however, when he silently released his wrists and walked away, leaving a completely astounded Liam to stand stock-still where he left him. Zayn wordlessly rifled through the duffel bag Liam stowed aside the door, searching for something for a few terse moments before he turned around again.

 

“On the bed.” There was something inarguable in his tone; even if Liam didn’t already know he was in trouble, he certainly would’ve then. Liam slowly kneeled on the mattress, making it creak under his weight, and sat back on his heels. He tried to see the couple of things Zayn held in his hands but caught his warning gaze and immediately gave up. “Eyes closed.” Liam almost shivered at the authority that resonated in the two words, obliging quickly. He felt something cool come around his temples and realized belatedly Zayn had tied something around his eyes as a blindfold. His heart pounded in his ears, which had gone supersonic and supersensitive from the sensory deprivation, on top of his intoxication.

 

Liam was surprised by Zayn’s lips, slipping wet and plush against his own between bites and unexpected sweeps of his tongue. He kissed back after a few stunned seconds, relishing the contact, even if it was minimal. Zayn’s fingers swept over his cock and he gasped, realizing exactly how vulnerable he was like this, completely at his mercy.

 

Zayn said nothing as he pushed Liam onto his back, spreading his legs roughly by the knees and settling somewhere in between them. He exhaled slowly, letting his warm breath fan across Liam’s flushed skin, inching down his boxers until his length spring free. Every contact point throbbed, sending waves of sensation up through his entire body to linger at his exposed member.

 

“I don’t know where you got the idea you can mouth off like that,” Zayn mused with casual indifference, his detached coolness utterly inappropriate for Liam’s desperation.

 

“Zayn, I—” Liam began, but he cut himself off with a gasp when Zayn drew his tongue from base to tip, flicking the tip of his tongue underneath his head. “Oh, god,” he moaned, his breath catching when he heard the telltale _snick_ of a lube bottle opening.

 

“I really should punish you,” Zayn mused in the same maddeningly even tone, and Liam felt him shifting around on the bed. Liam opened his mouth to reply and lost all ability to speak when Zayn’s warm, wet tongue slid over his hole. “I spoil you.”

 

“Yeah,” Liam agreed breathlessly. “God, I love you, you’re so good to me,” he babbled. His hips canted in time with Zayn’s tongue as it worked him open, keeping him painfully hard and leaking on his stomach.

 

“Maybe too good?” Zayn pulled away and before Liam could even protest, his tongue was replaced by a slick finger. He slowly traced around, making Liam writhe beneath him for the kind of satisfaction he ached for.

 

“Nononono,” Liam protested quickly, his head thrashing back and forth. His abs were slick with sweat and his lips had gone red from where he’d been biting them. Zayn slid a finger in abruptly – although everything was abrupt to Liam when he couldn’t see anything – and worked it painstakingly slowly, pulling out and back in with the delicious, burning drag Liam wanted. “Need your cock,” he cried. “I need it, Zayn, I can’t take this—”

 

“I think what you need is to be taught a lesson,” Zayn replied smoothly. He pulled out the three fingers he had worked in and Liam groaned at the loss, feeling empty and terrified at the implication of his words.

 

“Please, Zayn, please,” he rambled, “I need something, need your cock, need you.”

 

“The thing is,” Zayn began, his informal tone slow and unhurried. Liam could swear he heard Zayn sliding out of his jeans, but he reminded himself it would just be wishful thinking. “I could give you what you need, but I could also just leave you here for a while…slip a cock ring on you and keep playing with you, suck your cock until you think you’ll burst, work your tight little hole until you’re crying for me, fuck you into the mattress until you know you’re mine but still can’t get any release at all.” Liam’s mind went a thousand miles an hour, his entire body taut with arousal as he waited for Zayn to continue. The bed shifted again and he could feel Zayn’s fingers on the inside of one of his knees. “Actually, I kind of like the sound of that.”

 

Zayn slid the cock ring on Liam right before he lined up the head of his cock to his slick hole, rubbing against it and making Liam keen at the friction. “Christ, look at you,” Zayn murmured softly, and Liam vaguely realized through his haze that Zayn sounded immeasurably less contained than before. “Gagging for it, yeah? I bet you could’ve come from just that.” He pressed in slowly and Liam moaned, loud. The head of his cock slid past his muscle and he inched in, pulling out just as slowly before pushing back again. Liam flattened his palms on the headboard and shoved his hips down in a desperate attempt to get him to move faster and Zayn reached down and tweaked one of his nipples. Liam was too far gone to even worry about the sting and twined his ankles behind Zayn’s back, pulling him in closer with every maddening, achingly slow thrust.

 

“Fucking gorgeous little cockslut.” Liam heard the strain in Zayn’s voice, the wrecked little growl, and reached up to try and grab at his shoulders. Zayn took Liam’s hips and increased his speed to something still much too short of satisfying and Liam started moaning an incoherent stream of _pleasepleaseplease_ and _ohgodzayn_.

 

“Please,” Liam moaned, desperate.

 

Zayn stopped moving all together and pulled out and for a split second Liam panicked; he waited for inevitable shift of weight that would tell him Zayn left him there to suffer through his intoxicated, near-hysterical lust.

 

“Have you learned your lesson?” Zayn asked, and jumped when he felt him right at his ear.

 

“Yesyesyesyes—”

 

“And what do we say when we do things wrong?”

 

Liam could’ve kicked himself; he wondered vaguely if he could’ve avoided the entire thing if he had juts said it sooner. “I’m sorry!” He breathed, throwing his head back and digging his heels into Zayn’s back. “Please, Zayn–”

 

Zayn rammed into Liam roughly, bottoming out in one thrust before pulling out almost all the way. “That’s what I thought,” he said as he slid in slowly, and Liam could tell he was smiling. He took Liam by the hips and pulled him on top, working his cock above the ring. “Get yourself off, baby. Wanna see you ride me.”

 

Liam pressed his feet flat onto the mattress and leaned forward, catching Zayn’s lips in a kiss but leaving enough room for him to keep working his cock. He slammed his hips down, feeling him hit the right spot over and over and over and over and over again and every thrust vibrating through his body, his breaths coming out in rushed little moans that Zayn stole from his lips. Zayn laughed as Liam drove his hips in tight circles and his nails dug into Zayn’s shoulder blades.

 

“You look so fucking good like this.” Zayn growled into his neck and pulled the cock ring off, reaching behind his head and untying the necktie he used as the makeshift blindfold and watching in awe as Liam’s eyes glossed over. He took Liam by the hips and pistoned up into him, and Liam gasped as he finally went over the edge, his orgasm mirrored and magnified and shaking through his entire body as he moaned Zayn’s name. Zayn came three thrusts later and collapsed backwards against the duvet, Liam falling on top of him and covering his entire face and neck with kisses. 

 

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” Liam chanted, grinning like a moron and pressing his sweaty cheek against Zayn’s hammering heart.

 

“You little shit,” he chuckled fondly, ruffling his hair with one hand and rubbing his back with the other.

 

“That… you…” Liam was too blissed out to manage anything other than basic sentence construction. “So good.”

 

“Good,” Zayn hummed to himself, clearly pleased.

 

“Hey, Zayn?”

           

“Yeah?”

    

“We still have some weed left.”

        

“Yeah?”

     

“Yeah.” Liam grinned. “Oh, and by the way.”

     

“Yeah?”

           

“I’m not sorry.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is for the lovely Nimrah and Lissete on Twitter (@tablouids and @zapandarrows, respectively) and is loosely inspired by [this tweet](https://twitter.com/tablouids/status/471483930776846336), although I admittedly deviated from the prompt a bit (; -g


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